


the L word

by discowing (ameliafromafairytale)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Daddy Issues, Damian Wayne is Robin, Gen, No Incest, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliafromafairytale/pseuds/discowing
Summary: “I’m not asking if youloveme,” Damian says, and Bruce can hear the leather of his gauntlets creaking as he tightens his fists. “I’m asking if youlikeme.”
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152





	the L word

**Author's Note:**

> > Anonymous asked:
>> 
>> the ladybird "mom do u like me?" "ur my daughter i love u" "yes but do you like me?" WITH BRUCE AND DAMIAN
> 
> crossposted from [my tumblr](https://dykewing.tumblr.com/post/639686733176422400/the-ladybird-mom-do-u-like-me-ur-my-daughter-i) with a few minor tweaks. 

The Batmobile is quiet as they drive through Gotham after their patrol; even the hum of the engine and the tires on asphalt seem muted, dulled by that particular hush the predawn hours bring. It’s not necessarily uncommon for the drive back to be so quiet, but the general atmosphere of the cabin is out of the ordinary for a ride with _this_ Robin.

Normally, if a patrol goes well, this Robin will fill the Batmobile with chatter boasting about their accomplishments that night, happiness barely hidden behind a cocky smirk. If a patrol goes poorly, he will make sharp, biting comments criticizing their performance or glare out the window in stony silence.

Instead, tonight (or this morning, technically), Bruce glances over to see Damian sitting in the passenger seat with his knees pulled up against his chest, arms wrapped loosely around his legs and his head resting against the window. His eyes are open, so he’s awake, but his expression seems almost... _sad_ , or perhaps _forlorn,_ instead of twisted in the scowl Bruce usually sees on a drive home as quiet as this one.

"What’s wrong?” Bruce asks. He's straight to the point because this Robin dislikes beating around the bush, but also because though their patrol had been fairly quiet by Gotham's standards, Damian _is_ still prone to hiding injuries and/or anything else he considers a weakness. Though all the major players are in Arkham currently, it’s entirely possible Robin could have ran into some old, forgotten fear gas or a previously undiscovered plant of Ivy’s while on his own and neglected to inform Bruce when they met up again. “Did something occur while we were patrolling separately?”

His unease grows when Damian doesn’t respond with his customary immediate denial. Instead, his son just lets out a barely audible sigh, his breath briefly fogging up the glass.

“Robin,” Bruce demands, then, clearing his throat and reigning his concern in somewhat, continues in a softer tone, “Damian...do you require medical attention?”

“No,” Damian says, rolling his eyes. “You may cease your worrying; I am unscathed.” It _seems_ like a truthful enough response, but Bruce has been in this business long enough to know that 'physically unscathed' does not necessarily mean his son is actually _okay_.

“But something _did_ happen,” Bruce repeats.

“It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Damian says, waving a hand dismissively as he continues to gaze out the passenger side window. “I am merely...thinking.”

Bruce falls quiet for a moment, contemplating how - or if - to proceed with the conversation. It could be nothing; maybe Damian is just upset about stray cats, or craving a specific dish he and Talia would often share in his childhood, or wishing he’d been able to make it to the reading by that one poet he seems to like.

Still, anxiety and paranoia curl their familiar fingers around his heart. What if it _is_ something serious? The longer he holds his tongue, the tighter the grip around his heart feels. Experience and many fights with his older children have shown him that his helicopter dad approach is not often welcome, but experience has also shown him that the anxiety will not fully fade until he knows what appears to have Damian so troubled.

“Penny for your thoughts, then?” Bruce asks at length when he can’t contain himself any longer. “Maybe...ah, maybe even the big penny?” he adds somewhat awkwardly, trying to echo a phrase he knows Dick has used with Damian (and _him_ ) many times.

Damian takes in a deep breath like he’s preparing to say something, but exhales without a word. After a few seconds, though, he sits up straighter, head no longer leaning against the window. Still, it is a long moment before he actually speaks.

“Father,” he begins, and there is tension in his shoulders now. He pauses, licking his wind-chapped lips, then tries again. “Father, do you...do you like me?” he asks. His voice wavers slightly, but is otherwise clear.

Bruce almost hits a telephone pole, only swerving out of the way at the last moment.

“Come again?” he asks, voice strained, when the steering wheel is steady in his hands again. Maybe he should activate the autopilot for this conversation, but the excuse of needing to keep his eyes on the road is a familiar avoidance tactic he’s not about to give up now. 

“Do you _like_ me,” Damian repeats, finally turning to look directly to Bruce. There’s more certainty in his voice now, and this time, it’s not a question.

“Damian, you’re...you’re my _son_ ,” Bruce says, at loss for words. “Of course I...” he swallows, trailing off. He knows not being able to finish the sentence doesn’t help his defense, but... “I know we have our ups and downs, but at the end of the day, you’re my son,” he repeats, firmer. Where is this coming from?

“I’m not asking if you _love_ me,” Damian says, and Bruce can hear the leather of his gauntlets creaking as he tightens his fists. “I’m asking if you _like_ me.”

“I...can you clarify?”

“Do you enjoy my presence? Am I someone you’re _glad_ to have in your life?" Damian asks. "Do...do I have value to you outside of our blood ties and my service as Robin? Would you have picked me to be part of your family if we _weren't_ biologically related, or am I simply an _obligation_ to you, someone you’re legally required to take care of until I come of age?” His voice cracks at the end, reminding Bruce that even his youngest is not so young anymore.

“...Are you certain you didn’t encounter fear gas or any other mood-altering substances tonight?” Bruce asks, trying to act as if each question Damian just threw at him didn't feel like a knife between his ribs. His grip on the steering wheel is tight and he keeps his gaze firmly on the road, not wanting to look over and see the hurt in his son's voice echoed on his face.

He can’t think of what could’ve prompted this conversation. Damian seemed normal enough when they left the Cave just a few hours ago, and nothing out of the ordinary happened while they patrolled together. What could’ve occurred in the scant amount of time they weren’t crossing rooftops side by side to affect his son so strongly?

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Father,” Damian says, voice tight. “Why do you refuse to answer it?”

Bruce is silent, unable to put his thoughts into words. Shame rises in his chest, expanding until there’s hardly room for him to breathe or for his heart to beat. Damian tuts and looks away when he receives no response.

“Of course,” he mutters, his tone bitter with disappointment. “I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

The Batmobile passes through the Cave entrance then, the gentle hum of the engine becoming a roar as the tunnel walls echo and amplify it. Conversation pauses until they exit the tunnels, Bruce bringing the car to a stop and parking next to the other Batmobiles currently in rotation. Neither of them immediately move to get out.

In the sudden quiet, Bruce finds he’s is even less certain of what to say. While he'd felt overstuffed with shame just minutes ago, now he finds he feels as hollow and echoing as the Cave itself, the bats flapping about in imitation of his own disorganized and chaotic thoughts. After a moment, he clears his throat and attempts to try again.

“Damian, you have to understand - “ Bruce begins, but something in his tone must not be what Damian wants to hear. The boy shakes his head before he’s even able to finish his sentence.

“No,” Damian says, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. The _least_ you can do is spare me the indignity of being lied to for my comfort,” he scoffs. His son exits the vehicle, slamming the door behind him on his way out. Despite the trouble it will get him in with Alfred, Damian doesn't bother with changing out of his Robin uniform, instead stomping straight up the stairs to the Manor.

Bruce, watching from where he remains frozen in the driver's seat, wonders why he couldn’t have just said _yes_.

**Author's Note:**

> and then damian flopped down onto his bed, screamed into his pillow, shed a few quiet tears in titus's fur, and called dick. 
> 
> i'm not sure if anon intended this to be a prompt, but that's what happened, lol. i love that particular brand of angst damian has about being the only biological child in a family where the rest of the children were chosen :) i tried to leave it up to the reader whether or not you think bruce actually like damian. if you're a bad dad bruce fan then have at it, and if you're a good dad bruce fan imagine he eventually chased after damian and somehow managed to salvage the situation.
> 
> what happened to make damian ask this? no, he's not dosed w fear gas or depression pollen or anything like that. in my mind, he witnessed something simple like a father and son with their arms slung over each other's shoulders, laughing and joking with each other as they walked home from a bar without a care in the world. damian followed them silently to make sure they got home safe, and at some point realized that these were two people who would still be friends even if they were not blood related.


End file.
